


Ask Again (what do you really want)

by OverMyFreckledBody



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Lost in Space Fusion, Attraction, Dead Laura Hale, Desperation, Laura Hale Feels, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pre-Relationship, Sheriff Stilinski & Stiles Stilinski Feels, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-27 17:06:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15029219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OverMyFreckledBody/pseuds/OverMyFreckledBody
Summary: Stiles is about to leave camp to get something necessary for them getting off this forsaken planet. He has a request for Derek, in case he doesn't come back.Derek, of course, doesn't like it.





	Ask Again (what do you really want)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Turq_I](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Turq_I/gifts).



> you know what this is for
> 
> <3

          He hovers right on the edge of the canopy Derek is working under, hesitant and seemingly unaware of the way Derek watches him out of the corner of his eyes. Derek says nothing, knowing it’s better to just let Stiles make the decision to step forward on his own – and soon enough, with a very clear look of _fuck it_ on his face, he strides in with new determination. Here, Derek says nothing as well, only raising his eyebrows, projecting the silent _well? get on with it_ that makes Stiles scowl, all anxiety from before washing away.

 

          He bites back a smirk. He knows exactly when to push. Never too soon, but right when Stiles steps in too far for the action to be reversible, right after he starts to flounder.

 

          “Look,” Stiles snaps, holding eyes with Derek that, as he stops to take a deep breath in, drop to dart around instead. He takes in the way Derek is dirty, sweating in the heat, the way he’s wearing his dark jacket anyway; he watches Derek’s hands mindless fill in boxes full of supplies being transferred from one ship to another as he waits for Stiles to say his piece. Which he does with forced calmness that weakens into a pitiful plea towards the end, “I’m going to go get fuel from one of the lost _Jupiters_. We don’t foresee any problems coming up, but…” He chews his lip and he still hasn’t made eye contact again, but now he ducks his head and Derek’s own lips part at how young he looks here, how unguarded. “If I don’t come back, can you – can you check up on my dad?”

 

          It hits Derek then, how much this kid trusts him – and fuck, if it isn’t returned, but that’s a thought that’s deeply buried and one he purposefully doesn’t unearth – and how _blinding_ it is. It throws him off balance a little and his hands still. Out comes a reflexive statement, one that doesn’t even pass through his head, just pouring out of his mouth on impulse, “I’m not going to take care of your dad if you die out there.”

 

          Anything blooming of youth and hope vanishes from Stiles’ expression as he snaps his head up again. There’s an angry light to his eyes that runs deeper than the usual looks of irritation he’s sent Derek’s way since they’ve been stranded on this planet. “I’m not asking that you – you _take care of him_ ,” Stiles spits, splutters really, but his voice has dropped low, a tone of warning. It’s intense and cold, and should send Derek leaning backwards, but he just watches with cool eyes, letting Stiles finish himself out. “He’s a grown ass man. He has a kid – me – and he –” He cuts himself short with a click of his teeth and takes in another breath, licking over his bottom lip. Derek’s own gaze catches on it before he quickly rights himself and looks up into Stiles’ eyes again, but the boy’s already starting to wind down, all on his own.

 

          His shoulders sag and his head rolls just a little on his neck, but he doesn’t look away this time, and the dead _acceptance_ in his face’s, his body’s _everything_ tugs at Derek’s chest. He puts everything he’d been holding down and is about to step in – to do _what_ he doesn’t know – when Stiles speaks up again. “Just… every once in a while. Stop by and make sure he hasn’t found some alcohol or something. That’s all I ask.” His eyes are wide and they’re starting to shine, and he’s just – he’s _looking_ at Derek. “Please.”

 

          He is the picture of desperation and it’s like a mirror. Derek doesn’t blink, but he thinks that if he did, he’d see himself in that brief second of darkness, staring at his reflection. See himself, with tired eyes and a growing beard; himself with the envelope in one hand, not yet opened, too worried on if he’ll make it in or not; himself, in the other fist, with an old, creased photo of his family. It had almost been too much to leave their graves behind, but for Laura, it had been what she needed, and he knew he wouldn’t make it without her – wouldn’t make it anyway, not with the asteroids.

 

          And now she’s still gone, so maybe if he closed his eyes, it would only be a reflection of what he saw that morning. Brushing his teeth, he’d seen something that’d reminded him of _Stiles_ , so he’d used Laura’s memory to scrub away any thoughts of losing anyone else, of getting anyone close enough to care too deeply if they were lost.

 

          And it’s all for naught, because even if he buries it all, he still knows, like he knows that he’ll miss his family until he dies, that he already cares too much. So all he has now is the drive to keep himself and…  to keep them both alive.

 

          When he replies to that, it’s like he has to physically pull the statement out of himself, but Derek finally gets out in a mutter that feels broken in a way he hopes Stiles can’t pick up on, “I’m not going to do that.” Stiles’ mouth opens again, and his eyes somehow get shinier, but Derek cuts him off too quick, looking away and folding up the edges of the box he’d been filling as he continues. “I’m going with you.”

 

          _I’ll take care of him by taking care of you_ , Derek thinks to himself as he pointedly doesn’t look at Stiles in his astounded silence. The best way to take care of a family, after all, is to make sure they all have each other.

 

          As he finishes with the last box, Stiles finally finds something to say. It’s not what Derek expected at all, “What about what you’re doing here?”

 

          Derek glances back at him and sees that he’s started to calm down a little. He’s got a weak sprout of hope growing in him again, Derek can see as much in his eyes, even if his mouth and crossed arms show nervousness. He looks back at the boxes. “Not much. Lifting the heavy stuff.”

 

          He spots Stiles eyeing his biceps, perhaps for a moment that lingers on too long, before he licks his lips and scuffs his foot in the dirt beneath them. He hums, turning his head to the group of people scurrying about, a chunk of which that are starting to clump together, readying to go to get the fuel from the lost _Jupiter_. “Makes sense.”

 

          Derek looks at him again. He can tell Stiles knows, because the boy’s cheeks start to pinken, up high before the color drips down. Derek follows it with his eyes, fingers curling into the box.

 

          “Well!” Stiles claps his hands together and Derek jerks at the suddenty of it. Stiles looks everywhere but at Derek and his voice is a little too loud. “I’ll go help with the last of the stuff. Meet up with the rest of us when you’re done.” He leaves, and as he does, he trips over a rock, catching himself with a swear.

 

          _Well_.

 

          _Well_ , Derek thinks, running his tongue over the tops of his teeth as he goes back to his boxes, quickening his pace just a touch. At least he isn’t the only one who’s feeling a little unsteady.

**Author's Note:**

> yo, since you've made it this far, maybe leave a kudos? and if you liked it, a comment? even something small would really, really make my day
> 
>  
> 
> ~~reception has been faint lately and its fucking killing me guys~~


End file.
